Drowning
by BeautifulPhrases
Summary: [this was based off the musical but there was no category for that so yeahh :3] Heather Austin wanted to end it all, but gets saved. Now she is trapped and transferring to her mom's old high school. Which Veronica claims to be awesome, but doesn't want to talk about.
1. Prologue

**[WARNING: Contains suicide and selfharm!]**

 **A/N: Hey guys, this story contains heavy subjects but will get better later on. It's mostly drama-based and not meant to be disrespectful to anyone who went through this. If there is any discription that you find insensitive or offensive, let me know. I will decide if I change it, but if you are reasonable I most likely will.**

 **Here, Veronica is grown up and raised a daughter, who is the MC. It might be unprofessionally written, but I wrote this generally just to entertain myself rather than make something that could actually be considered "incredibly good written".**

 **I'd love to hear your opinion on the stuff I wrote, so go ahead and leave a review!**

Heather Austin woke up, struggling to breathe. Another nightmare – as usual.

Since the night she tried to end it, they kept coming and coming. She'd been at home for almost three weeks now and got a shitload of people to talk to her. Nobody got that they were better off without her. Now her dad was on suicide watch and she just wished he would let her go. Just after she thought she was gone it had been so quiet. No more voices in her telling her to jump off something or to cut herself.

"Are you okay?" The soft whisper was clearly her mom's. They must have switched role halfway through the night.

"Yes," Heather whispered. "I'm fine." She hated the two words but saying them had become a habit. Sometimes she said them to leave her mother, who she didn't want to bother, but mostly she wanted her mom or dad to ask if she really was fine. She wanted them to care. They had most of the time been too caught up in their work to notice the cuts on her wrist and arm.

"Honey, you know you don't have to lie to us anymore." Her mother's voice sounded in pain and moment later she felt an arm wrapping around her. "Don't do this, okay. There is so much to live for. And even if there isn't right now, I promise it will get better if you keep holding on."

"I know."

"Now why don't you start off by telling me your dream?" Veronica asked. When her mother realized she wasn't going to say anything, she replied: "I really want to help you. You know that, right? I truly love you."

Heather tried closing her eyes, but as soon as she did, she felt it again. The water in her lungs, her body being paralyzed by hitting the water. She was meant to drawn and she felt no regrets. She was sinking and she was so scared, the darkness consuming her.

Tears ran down her face as she quickly opened her eyes. "Can I go downstairs?"

"Sure," Veronica agreed. Her mother was okay with almost all of her requests since the day Heather had jumped. "Let me come with you."

Ushering her downstairs, Veronica was awfully quiet. It made Heather feel like she was supposed to say something, but she didn't know what to say. She could apologize for feeling so terrible she jumped off a bridge, but that wouldn't exactly enlighten the ambiance. At home they avoided the subject and with the psychologists she didn't want to talk about it. She didn't want to think about it anywhere.

They told her someone saved her. When she hit the water, they had gone into the water and dragged her to the shore. They almost drowned with her. All that effort just to save someone who didn't want to be saved. The guilt of someone almost dying with her was the only thing that kept her from going entirely crazy.

She sat down on the grey, torn couch. Her mom and dad didn't make enough money to be able to replace it for a newer one and they had sworn she was born on this thing. Which, of course, was only a joke. Heather had been a tough baby and her mom had to go to the hospital after a day of being in labor.

"I'm scared," Heather finally said, after sitting down. "I feel like I'm still drowning."

It was true. Whenever she closed her eyes, the water was there. When she looked at her mother and her father, she felt waves of shame and guilt. Thinking about going to school again made her feel weak and vulnerable, though she hadn't met anyone there yet.

"I know. I know, honey." Veronica shook her head. "But you have to keep holding on. It will get better. It will hurt less over time. We will rebuild your life and even if it feels like there is no-one there… I will be here."

"I'm sorry for leaving you," Heather squeaked. "I didn't mean to… I guess I was too..."

"It's fine. It's okay. I get it." Her mother said, grabbing a blanket and covering her. "You can start over, at your new school. I went to Westerburg and I met my friend Martha there. It's going to be okay. You are going to be okay, I promise."

A short silence. "Now get some rest."

"Okay."


	2. Welcome to Sherwood

The next morning, Heather woke up on the couch, her mom still on her side.

Today was Monday. She had to go to school. She would have to face these new people and tell them why she suddenly transferred - during senior year. She had to make a good impression.

She removed the blanket and got up quickly. Her mother followed her upstairs and Heather had to get dressed in front of her. Any sharp object would be kept out of her reach and she had to be constantly watched. They knew what she would do if she had the chance. If it weren't for that stupid therapist, she would still be lying in bed.

Heather put on her skinny jeans and a simple shirt, something with a cheesy quote she didn't care about. Long sleeves to hide her scars. Her hair in two, dark brown braids. Nothing special and more specifically, nothing dark. She wanted to be a shadow.

"Honey, you ready?" Veronica yelled from downstairs.

"Almost," she responded plainly. Then suddenly realizing they had uniforms these days. Black and red, she'd seen it lying on the washer. She had to change quickly. She scolded at herself for being so forgetful all the time. "Just a minute!"

"I'll wait for you in the car!" Which was barely a car. It looked like a pile of junk from the dump that had been given the ability to move around. It was saddening, but it was all they could get with the little money they had.

After changing, she grabbed her bag and strolled outside. Once she sat down in the car, she opened her phone. There were several messages from people asking where she was, meaningless girls who she had only spoken once. Never asked how she was doing.

She closed her phone again. Why even bother to tell them she transferred.

"Nervous?" her mom asked. That was an understatement, but she didn't feel like sharing. She had her mom worried enough already. Besides, thinking about what would happen at school didn't feel great either.

"A little." A lie.

Her mom had graduated here. People would know Veronica instead of just Heather. What if she had a bad reputation? It could ruin here. This was high school. Everything could ruin her life.

They took a turn and stopped in front of the school.

"We, er... Me and your dad told the principal about your situation." She tapped nervously on the steering wheel, waiting for Heather to get out of the car. "If there's anything at all, just call me."

"I will."

"Take care."

"I will. Bye mom."

She jumped up, gave her mother a quick smile and got out of the car. There wasn't much time, but she had to drop some books in her locker before first period. And her first class was on the other side of the building, according to her map.

When arriving at her locker, everyone was already slowly strolling to their classes. She opened her locker and zipped her bag open. Heather had to get CHemistry - she could just as well take some other books with her. She put Physics, History and Biology in her locker, but there was no Chemistry. She had to get to class now, but she couldn't show up without her books.

"Are you alright?" a kind voice behind her asked. She turned around to stare into the face of a chubby, blonde woman in a wheelchair. The woman shrieked when she was Heather's face. "Oh! You must be Veronica's."

Heather pressed her lips against each other and smiled awkwardly. "Yeah, that's me. Nice to meet you."

"Hello, dear." This was a lovely woman. Maybe this wouldn't be that bad. "My name is Miss Dunnstock, but you can call me Martha." Ah, yes. The friend her mother had told her about.

"My mom has told me a lot about you." The woman - Martha - seemed flattered.

"How can I help you?" she asked.

"I- um, I forgot my Chemistry books and I have to get there right now."

Martha frowned. "The Chemistry-wing is on the other side of the school. But the teachers tend to go easy on new students. I'll have a talk with your teacher and it'll be okay."

"Thank you so much."

The Chemistry-wing was indeed a whole walk, but she got there just in time. Everyone sat down and she quickly walked to the only empty seat. It was next to some blonde girl with straight hair and blue eyes. She was rapidly writing down some notes as if she'd forgotten to make her homework. Which was probably the case.

"Hi," Heather started, which made the girl make a scared jump.

"God, don't do that." The girl bent down over her work again. She wrote down two more sentences and looked up. "Hi. I'm Ally Duke, by the way."

"Heather. Austin." She smiled weakly. "I'm new, in case you hadn't noticed yet."

"I did." She smirked. "But you don't want to be friends with me, trust me. Unless you want to be a nobody."

"I prefer being a nobody over being lonely."

"Miss Duke," the teacher said sarcastically, "talking is something you are able to do outside of this classroom, not during class. I get you want to catch up on the life of the new girl, but your grades aren't good enough."

Ally rolled her eyes, but decided to be quiet for the rest of the period.

During lunch break, they walked together to the cafeteria.

"There's not much you need to know," Ally explained. "Just don't talk to the football players or to Venessa and Danielle Chandler. They are like the evil twins."

"Like _those_ twins?" Two girls, looking exactly alike, were leaning against some lockers. Laughing and flirting with two football players.

"Yeah. Those." Ally rolled her eyes. "They are feasting over the dead bodies of others. They got popular by acting like two sad kids, weeping over their dead aunt."

"Dead aunt?" Suddenly interested, Heather turned to Ally. "Why would that make them popular? Isn't that kind of unrelated to Westerburg?"

"Nah. Their aunt, Heather Chandler, died of suicide during her senior year. Three others did the same thing during that year. It was the school's black page. 1989."

"She was called Heather?" Heather mumbled.

Her uniform itched everywhere and was a bit too tight. She had forgotten her Chemistry books. She had the same name as a girl who died of suicide on this school. This first day was going absolutely great.

"Yeah, weird, right?" Ally sighed. "My mom knew Heather too, they were friends. There was this group, my mom, Heather and another girl named Heather. My mom was also called Heather. And then there was Veronica, but she was barely part of the clique."

"Veronica Sawyer?"

"Yeah! You know her?"

Heather slowly shook her head. "No. I guess I just, er… heard it somewhere."

 **I changed some small facts, but I think I'll stick with this version. I have A LOT planned for this story (boy, you should know), including JD - who is still my all-time favorite character.**


	3. Dear diary

When lunch break was almost over, Ally's face suddenly turned white as a sheet. Seconds later, the perfect face of Vanessa or Daniella Chandler - who knew - appeared next to Heather's. Her perfect, red hair flowing down onto her shoulders and a red scrunchie.

"Now, who may this be?" she asked. Heather knew this kind of girl. The mythic, emotionless bitch. No wonder Ally told her to stay away from them.

"Ally, honey," the other Chandler - with a green scrunchie - added, "why don't you introduce your new friend to us? Maybe you guys can come to a party with us someday." Her nails were scarily long, Heather noticed. Making this girl mad could end with some bad scars.

Ally was visibly scared of the two girls. "This is Heather Austin. She just transferred here. We're in Chemistry together. She's Veronica Sawyer's daughter." Sure, Ally. Throw that out on the street.

"Veronica Sawyer is back in town?" red scrunchie asked surprised. "Well, well."

"In that case we are bound to be friends," green scrunchie added.

"Um, wasn't Ally's mom part of that clique too?" Heather asked slowly, before she saw Ally making the abort-immediately sign. Too late.

"We have a history," Ally murmured.

"But of course we can try again."

"Right? Ally."

Red scrunchie shook Heather's hand. "I'm Vanessa, but friends call me V."

"I'm Daniella," green scrunchie added.

Scared wasn't the right wording of how Heather felt right now. Terrified was more accurate. "I need to go to my locker. I'll see you guys later, I guess."

"Wait!" Vanessa smiled. "Remember, tomorrow you are with us."

Once Heather got home, she opened her books. There was just as much homework as she remembered. She would love to go on the internet and look up what exactly happened in 1989 - as she didn't dare to ask her mother - but she wanted to make a good impression. Maybe she could casually bring the subject up during dinner.

Even after her first day, Heather already felt like she knew more about her mother than before. Veronica had never really talked about her old school. Just that she had really enjoyed her time there.

Now, hearing what happened, Heather started doubting if her mother had actually enjoyed going there. She knew how easily people lied about painful memories.

Both her mom and dad weren't home, but her psychologist was probably sitting downstairs, watching Heather through some camera's she didn't know about. She didn't like being alone in a house with that woman, but they deserved a night out.

Heather went downstairs to get a glass of water, but nobody was there. So she really was alone, then. She could try to end it again, but she was too scared. She jumped off a bridge because she heard hitting the water would immediately end it. No pain, no feelings. But with her it didn't.

Just the memory of her mother's red, watery eyes when Heather woke up in the hospital… she couldn't let Veronica go through that again.

It could get better. She didn't feel like it would, but it could. Maybe the twins would turn out nice or she could live the civilian life with Ally. She lost everything but Heather could build the world again. She was tired but she could as least try.

Right?

She poured some water into a cup and went upstairs again, but she didn't continue making her homework. She grabbed her copy of her favourite book, laid down on her bed and started reading for the first time in a long time.

When she got into that dark place, she had stopped reading. Back then, she didn't want to know about other people's perfect lives, their happy endings or their terrible losses. One even worse than the other.

Heather had never thought of killing herself before everything started. She had once been the most popular girl in school, or at least the most popular senior. Until her best friend moved away, her boyfriend cheated on her and someone else took her place. She had been used to attention. She would sneak out at night get drunk at some party.

Then she dropped from the top of the stairs, figuratively.

She had felt like a pathetic child, wanting to end her life because she wasn't popular anymore. But of course it wasn't just that - it's what her head told her. And it had made her feel so much worse, like she was worth nothing. Heather still wasn't sure if she was worth popularity, though her therapists had told her it were lies she was telling herself. A distorted perspective.

The book wasn't good, but it was a bit enjoyable. Though Heather preferred dark novels over happy, teen-fiction ones. They seemed too happy to be real, in her opinion. Everything was more dramatic and romanticized.

Maybe her dad had some good thrillers instead. She'd seen him read those more often than she had seen him without one. He had this huge shelf in the attic that he kept them in, it had more than a thousand of them.

Heather got up again and found her way into the attic. A lot of cobwebs were up there, but she didn't mind them that much. Veronica, though, was terrified of them. Which is why Heather used to sneak into the attic, in their old house. She would just sit down in a corner and read for hours and hours.

Of course, this attic wasn't the same as the one in her old house, but it was just as dark and dusty. There was still a lot of stuff the previous owners had left (the couple died of old age and nobody came to take their stuff).

Heather grabbed the first book she saw on the shelf. 'The adventures of Kid Cool.'

She put the book back on the shelf. It wasn't all thrillers anymore, then.

There were a lot of books she recognized from her childhood. Books Veronica read to her before she went to bed, or the first few books she read on her own. Happy, idyllic stories. Yet good reads for a girl at that age. She even used to read those cliché horse novels.

There were also a lot of books she had already read. She hadn't realized until now how much she used to read. Entire afternoons… gone. For someone who claimed she had never been so much of a reader, she'd spent an awful amount of time in a fictional world.

On the bottom of the shelf, in the left corner, there was a book Heather didn't recognize. It had a dark blue cover with no title on the back. She grabbed it and took it downstairs before opening it.

In her room, she sat down and opened it on the first page.

The first page said: 'Property of Veronica Sawyer'.

The next page started with: 'Dear diary.'

This was her mother's old diary, which she most likely wasn't supposed to read. The first line was a younger version of Veronica talking about it being the first day of her senior year. It would probably end on the last day of senior year. It was entirely filled.

"This is a damn full-length novel," she said out loud.

Did she really want to invade her mother's privacy, though? If it really was that interesting, Veronica would have told her. Right.

But how much did she actually know about her mother? She thought she knew much, until she came here and learned about everything that happened at Westerburg. Usually, Veronica would make a life lesson out of everything she'd seen in her life: "Don't make inappropriate jokes in front of your parents", "Don't take more than ten shots" or "Don't drink too much slushy at once".

Heather had never heard her preach: "Don't commit suicide."

"Heather, I'm home!" It was her dad.

"Hey, dad," she responded and she shoved the diary under her sheets, just a second before her father walked into the room. He smiled at her and she showed him her wrists, which still didn't have any marks.

"How are you doing?"

"Fine." She smiled. "I was actually planning on going out for a drink." Which would give her an opportunity to read Veronica's diary without taking the risk of getting busted.

"Oh," he said, surprised by her initiative. "There's a 7/11 nearby."

 **So I kinda rushed to get to the interesting part (drama, a lot of drama), but I really want to thank everyone who read the story or left a review because honestly I thought this would just vanish into the dark depths of the website where nobody would find it.** **The chapters will be longer. The first two were barely 1.5K, butttt I'd like to write chapters with at least 2K from now on.**

 **ALSO what do you guys think will happen throughout the story? I'm just interested in your view (and it'll be fun to look back when we're at, like, chapter 10 or so).**


	4. Goodbye Jason

The 7-Eleven was pretty quiet.

Heather hadn't realized it, but as time had gone by, it was around time for dinner. Everyone was already at home. In the store it was just her, a bored cashier, a guy in a trench coat and a kid at the counter trying to buy some candy.

She opened the book again and continued reading. Her mother's life sounded pretty miserable, back then. She ordered a slushee so she wouldn't be that rude kid who sat down and didn't get anything. Heather's mom was a pretty good writer, actually. The girl got easily caught up in the story; though the story itself was interesting on its own. Veronica who changed from being a nobody to being a someone in one afternoon.

Every day something interesting seemed to happen with these three girls... the Heathers. They were nothing like her, but still Heather felt somewhat connected to the story. She read for a while, losing track of time, when someone woke her up from her almost hypnotized state.

"Greetings and salutations. Enjoying your slushee?" someone asked. Heather looked up to see someone standing next to her with raised eyebrows, as if the guy expected some kind of reaction. He was the one with the trench coat who had been sitting in the back.

She smiled politely. "Yeah, thanks."

"Cherry, I suppose?" the guy asked, as if it was some inside joke she didn't know about.

"Err, no." Heather started silently panicking. What if this was some creep that she shouldn't be talking to. "It's coke, actually. Why?"

"It's me... Jason." he said quietly, as if he expected a bombastic reaction. "Don't you recognize me?"

"Not really." Should she? She sunk deeper into her chair. "I'm new here so I don't think I do."

"But Veronica–"

She interrupted him: "Oh, of course. You're looking for my mother. People always say we look similar."

The guy sat down, looking kind of disappointed. "Excuse me. That must have been really weird." He smiled sheepishly. "Let me but you something to make up for this, is that okay?"

"Sure, I guess." Heather still wasn't sure what was happening and, in all honesty, she just wanted to continue reading. The guy grabbed some money, walked up to the cashier and ordered another slushee.

When he sat down again, he asked: "How is Veron– your mother doing?"

"She seems happy to be back in Sherwood after all these years, but I don't know her that well." Heather grinned uncomfortably. "We don't talk that much. Did you know her well?"

"We both went to the same high school, but we weren't that close. How old are you?"

"I'm seventeen."

"Ah, we were just about your age when we met." He smiled as though he was back in that moment. "So, do you go to Westerburg, too? We went there. Well, I don't suppose she would send you there after everything. Did she tell you about her time in high school?"

The amount of questions were a bit overwhelming. "We don't talk that much," she repeated. "My mom's a really closed kind of person. But you know that."

"She used to be really open. Back in the days." He grinned. "We would go to this same 7-Eleven, but she didn't like slushees as much."

"Why not?" Heather was now also grinning. "They're delicious. And I also love those brain-freezes. I mean, it hurts, but it also feels kind of nice. It's like biting on your lip when you're nervous. It helps you… forget, I guess. Or ignore is a better term."

Jason laughed. It sounded nice and real. "I used to say that all the time."

Heather grinned quietly.

She looked at the time, only to realize that it was already getting really late and her parents would get worried. "I'm sorry. I really am. But it's getting late and I don't want my parents to worry about me." She smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry about the slushee, but I really can't stay–"

"I get it. It's fine." He seemed to mean it. "Maybe we will meet some time in the future."

"Yeah." He wasn't that creepy after all. He actually seemed like a nice guy. And if her mother approved him during high school, it was probably fine. "I think I'll be here tomorrow again. So, if you feel up to it…"

"I'll be there," he told her. "Also, just... I think it's best if you don't tell your parents about our encounter. Is that okay?" Heather nodded.

"Goodbye, Jason."

"Goodbye…?"

"Heather."

He seemed surprised by hearing her name. "Goodbye Heather."

When Heather got home, dinner was already on the table and both her parents were looking nervous. "There you are."

"Thank God," she heard Veronica whisper. They were both still really nervous every time she got out of the house. Heather had been surprised when they had told her they would let her go to school again. Probably some suggestion from a psychologist.

The three sat down and started eating in silence. Spaghetti. It was fine, but she felt like it was a bit too spicy.

"So," her mother started.

"How was your day?" her dad asked at the same time.

Heather chewed on her spaghetti. Slowly, whilst deciding whether she would ask about the diary. "It was good. The people on Westerburg are nice. They told me about some girl named Heather who committed suicide, that was great. I'm feeling connected already."

Her dad shrugged and her mother just turned pale. "They still talk about that?"

"Yeah." Heather payed close attention to Veronica's expression. "They said you guys were friends."

For half a second, a flash of… something, Heather would almost say guilt. Then a blank expression. "We were, but we grew apart long before she died. She was a mythic bitch – she deserved it, in a way."

"Does anyone deserve to die?"

"No, of course not," her dad interrupted her mom before she could answer. "Honey, what you mother is trying to say is that you shouldn't think about it too much. Try to get something else on your mind, like: did you have a nice afternoon?"

Yeah, I read mom's diary. That was fun. "The slushee was pretty good. And I met some people who mysteriously knew me. A certain Martha Dunnstock, and some other guy."

That subject improved Veronica's mood a little bit. "Martha is great. Too bad we lost touch, but I think I'll go up to her sometime soon. I missed her. Who was the other guy?"

"Oh, he didn't mention his name." Heather shrugged. "Brown hair, dark eyes, loves a slushee. That's all I know. He thought I was you, which was pretty funny- is he a bad guy?" It was almost supernatural, how quickly her mother's mood could switch.

"No, he's fine. I'm just curious who it is. I don't recall someone like that."

That evening, Heather really wanted to continue reading, but before she could turn the page the heard a muffled sobbing coming from the room next to her's. She glared around the corner to see her parents sitting on the edge of the bed.

Her dad whispered something in her mother's ear, which seemed to calm her down a little bit, but it didn't make much of a difference. Veronica was shaking and crying with tears silently streaming down her face.

Heather pressed her body against the wall just before the woman looked up. She allowed herself to peek again and she almost didn't recognize her own mother. A pale skin with red spots caused by the crying and rubbing on her face. She was clearly very upset. Did they get in a fight that Heather hadn't picked up on?

"It's so strange," she heard Veronica whisper to her husband. "I barely even remembered Heather Chandler before our Heather brought her up. I don't understand what's wrong with me, but… I don't know, I just… I think I was closer to her than I remember."

"I can't give you an answer to that," the man responded, "but it sounds as though you have suppressed some memories."

"But why would I be upset about Heather Chandler? She was rude and I was never really that close to her. I have always been a nerd – I doubt Heather even knew who I was."

"If it helps you, we can see a doctor soon?" Heather's dad shrugged. "It might help. Maybe you were just really shocked by her death and you tried to just erase her."

"But Heather – our Heather – said she heard we were friends." Veronica sniffled. "I don't recall us even talking, at all. I'm just so confused."

"You should get some rest."

"Yeah, maybe I should."

Her father came to close the bedroom door so Heather sprinted into her own room again. Through the wall, she could still hear the quiet sobbing. It freaked her out but also made her feel… good, in a way. That she wasn't the only one crying over high school.

Right now, Heather felt okay, but she knew the darkness would return. The depression came in waves, with good days and bad days. Everything felt so useless and bad when she was in that bad place. Like she could disappear and nobody would even notice. At the moment, she didn't feel great. Of course. But it was not… as bad.

The only way to survive a wave was to focus on the good things, to try to keep her head above the waves. In those times, she would lock herself up in her room and refuse to talk to anyone. Before she jumped, she used to say that she had an assignment. After almost a year of pretending to be just fine, her parents started worrying. Which only made her feel worse, because she didn't want anyone to suffer with her.

From that moment on, she had tried to be fine. She went to parties and socialized, though she didn't really enjoy it, which the others sensed. They ruined the last bit of a normal life she had left. They pushed her off the stairs, figuratively.

And at that moment, another wave. It had been too much to take.

 **Thank you so much for reading this chapter! Please note that I have not experienced depression myself and got my information on how it feels second hand. I do try to make it as authentic as possible.**

 **ALSO. JD. I'm pumped! Let me know what you think.**


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